#well the pressure headaches wouldn’t be fun but

[the-nameless-wacky-inventor]

I need to do more for the lights outside the lab au so bad like. fishies

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 3)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

TW: brief gaslighting in this chapter

A/N: And now, back by unpopular demand, me! It took me a bit longer than usual to brain out this chapter, mainly because I’ve been replaying Breath of the Wild to prepare for Tears of the Kingdom. Fun fact, for one innocuous paragraph in this chapter, I had to google very basic knowledge just to get by. Extra credit if you can guess which one it was. /j And now, without further ado, I present: chapter 3.

Tag list: @tikosan @itsyellow @twerkingnutella18 @azoart @elegantkidfansoul @cutsieskull @delvira-only-baby @anaki-kuroshi @jellyfish-fish

Prev

The first thought in my mind when I wake up in a heap on the floor of my foyer is something along the lines of “My bones feel like rusty springs.” Who would have thought falling asleep against a door after a long, stressful day would cause every bone in your body to creak in protest with every bend and stretch? Not even a minute of consciousness and it’s apparent that leaving the house is gonna be a pain in more ways than one today.

The second thought is “Whoever just knocked on my door is dead to me.” Which, I will admit, is a bit harsh, but the headache that rears up from the sound compounded by the burn of every joint in my body would make anyone just a tad grouchy.

Against my body’s wishes, I force myself up off the ground, the sound of joints popping ringing in my ears. Some of the pain subsides with the release of pressure, but it’s clear that a good long soak in a hot bath will be necessary later. I allow myself a good, long stretch to wring out any remaining bubbles before relaxing with a heaving breath and opening the door.

The large stranger is smiling with an air of patience, as if he already knew of my predicament. He’s dressed rather simply: a button up shirt, a multicolored tie, and plain slacks. The emblem on his hat and bag signifies that he’s the mailman, which in hindsight should have been obvious considering the two letters clutched in his hands.

“Well, hey there, neighbor!” His voice holds the heavy twang of a southern accent that’s imbedded itself deep into his soul. “Don’t reckon we’ve met yet, have we?” His empty hand extends itself towards me as he proclaims, “Name’s Eddie.”

You’d think I’d be more accustomed to the sheer friendliness of the people around here, and yet I still have to take a moment to register the greeting and introduce myself. After a firm handshake, he offers me the mail in his other hand. “Got a couple letters for ya. You sure made friends fast!”

I let out a chuckle as I take the envelopes. “Guess I did, huh?” I respond as I take a quick glance at the two letters. One is a bright shade of pink, the other a cool blue. I look back up at the friendly man. “I’m kind of embarrassed to admit I didn’t know there was a post office here,” I say sheepishly.

To my relief, Eddie laughs. “Guess we are a pretty small neighborhood, but every town needs a mailman.” He pats his mailbag for emphasis, and I hear the light crinkling of paper rustling around inside. “Letters ain’t gonna deliver themselves, you know.” He spares a glance at his watch to check the time. “Speaking of, I still got a few more stops on the route, so I’d best be leaving.”

“Oh, alright!” I say with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to keep you. Have a nice day!”

“I will, you have a nice day, too, neighbor!” With a grin and a wave, Eddie sets off while whistling a tune. I watch him walk away for a moment before ducking back into my house and shutting the door. I debate reading the letters right there in the foyer, but my decision to skip dinner the night prior seems to have upset my weary body, which lets out a growl of hunger. The sudden realization of just how starving I was propelled me into my kitchen, where I haphazardly tossed the letters onto the table. Breakfast first, then social life.

As I start to prepare a simple meal, I happen to catch of whiff of myself.

…a bath. Breakfast, a bath, then social life.

—————————

It’s a little past midday when I finally wander back into my dining room, the worst of the muscle pain having dissolved in hot, soapy water. The feeling left me sleepy, and I only came back to grab a quick snack from the fridge before taking a nap. However, the garish colors of the envelopes lying askew on the table are a reminder that I forgot to get around to reading them.

With a vague feeling of guilt for having functionally ignored my neighbors, I grab the envelope on top first, which happens to be the pink one. A scan of the address reveals the sender to be none other than Julie. I huff out a laugh. I should’ve guessed. After a trip to the junk drawer to locate my letter opener, I unfold the paper (Why does it smell like flowers? Does she put perfume on her parchment?) and lean against the table as I read.

Dear Neighbor,

Hope you’ve been feeling better! You seemed a little anxious at the picnic and I’ve been rather worried. I talked to Frank and he said you just weren’t adjusted to the neighborhood yet. So, I had an idea! I’d like you to come over to my house today to play with me and Frank! We still have plenty of treats leftover and a ton of games we didn’t get to play. I think we’ll all be the best of friends!

Lots of Love,

Julie Joyful <3

The whole paper is covered in doodles of hearts and smiley faces and it brings a smile to my face. I smooth the letter out as best I can. When the wrinkles are all gone, I grab a few magnets and hang it up on my fridge. My first letter! I really do make friends fast. As I beam at the page, picking up the other letter, a sense of calm washes over me. A fun day with two of my lovely neighbors. Just what I need to take my mind off-

I don’t move for a second. My eyes stay glued down to the deep blue envelope held in my hands. I know it’s a bit silly to be so scared of a simple name neatly printed on a piece of paper, but that acknowledgment does little to comfort me. All I can do is stare at the letter.

The letter from Wally.

I breathe in. I breathe out. In. Out. In. Out. I let my hand drift back down, setting the envelope and whatever it might hold within back onto the table. It almost feels dangerous to let my eyes linger on it. I walk away, leaving the kitchen without the snacks I once intended to grab.

I’m not hungry anymore.

—————————

Julie’s house is every bit as bright and cheery as the woman who lives there. The colors border on overwhelming, both the exterior and interior being so vibrant you could make out all the furniture in the dead of night. The smell of grass, flowers, and a hint of sugar waft through the air. It’s the kind of place you can enter and know deep down you’re gonna be safe. But the single most stunning feature of her home has to be the flower garden.

I enter under a beautiful picket fence arch which has long been overtaken by interwoven pink roses. Those same roses line the garden, weaving around each other and the white stakes in the ground. Bushes of multicolored hydrangeas line the back of the house, and stepping stones made of pebbles and small glass stones forge paths through the flowerbeds. In the middle of it all is a clearing in which a yellow blanket lies covered with tea cakes and sandwiches.

I’m so wrapped up in the scenery that I bump into Frank as he carries a small tea set to the blanket. The two of us both jump in surprise, and the cups wobble on the tray for a moment before they level it out to keep them balanced. I put a hand on my chest to calm myself. “I’m so sorry!” I exclaim. “I got distracted, are you alright?”

Frank huffs a bit as he continues to make his way toward the blanket. “I’m fine, neighbor. No harm, no foul.” They lower the set to the ground, careful to keep it steady. Once he seems sure of its integrity, he looks up at me, a hint of exasperation on his face. “Just, please pay a bit more attention to where you’re going.”

With a wave of anxiety, my hands move to tuck near to my chest and tug at each other, eyes averted to a patch of daffodils. “Yeah, I’ll try. It’s just…” My sentence trails off as I admire the intricacies of the garden around us. I manage to turn back to him. “This place is incredible, isn’t it?”

Frank stands up and takes a look around too, an air of peace overtaking his grumpy exterior for a moment. “It really is. Julie works hard to keep it like this, and it really pays off.” I murmur an agreement, and we both take in our surroundings in silence for a minute or two.

The sound of the back door swinging open appears in my periphery, and a familiar, chipper voice follows it shortly. “Oh, you’re early!” Julie steps out and joins us, the small plate of warm sugar cookies in her grasp sending steam into the air. “I didn’t think you’d show up for another half hour. I’m so happy to see you!” She moves the plate to her left hand, wrapping her right arm around me in a half hug. I’m ushered back towards the blanket, and the three of us all settle down in the middle of the garden. I don’t waste a moment before picking up a sandwich and taking a bite.

We don’t chat much while we eat, though Frank does have to remind Julie not to talk with her mouth full a time or two. She seems eager for us to finish eating so we can get to the games, the buzzing energy around her so infectious that I find myself rushing to finish my lunch so I can find out what she has planned. She’s done within minutes, and it doesn’t take long before I’m also licking the errant sugar sprinkles from my fingers. We chatter about everything and nothing as Frank works their way through their meal, seeming immune to Julie’s impatience.

After a good long while, Frank finally wipes his mouth and begins to pile up our dirty dishes onto the tea tray. It doesn’t even take a second for Julie to already be on her feet, bouncing in excitement. “Are we ready? Can we play now? What should we do first?”

“First, we should clean up.” Frank seems to be struggling to balance everything as he stands up, and I hurry to my feet to take the tray from him. They murmur out a brief thank you as they push themself off the blanket. “It’s not a good idea to start running around with glass on the ground. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Once he regains his bearings, he kneels down to pick up the remaining few plates and a few scattered pieces of trash. “We should probably take the blanket in, too, so we don’t trip over it.”

Taking the cue, Julie bends down to pull the yellow blanket from the grass, folding it into a messy pile in her arms. “Good idea, Frank! Come on!” Not seeming concerned with waiting for Frank and me, she disappears in a flash of pink into her house. The two of us glance at each other, chuckling as we follow behind, the clinking of china marking our footsteps.

The dishes have only just touched the kitchen counter when Julie darts back into the room. She notices my looking towards the sink and rushes to say “Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean all of them later. Let’s just go!” I match her smile as I follow her back outside with Frank tailing behind.

The next couple of hours seem to soar by, the boundless energy given off by the pastel woman so contagious that I don’t even realize how exhausted I am until I stumble and fall during a game of shadow tag and find that I don’t feel like getting up. I instead stay flopped over panting in the grass, arms outstretched, staring at the sky as the shades of blue begin to fade to soft arrays of green, orange, and pink. A grey face pops into my view, peering at me from the side with their eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? That was a pretty rough fall.” Still trying to catch my breath, I offer a thumbs up in lieu of a verbal response. Frank seems satisfied with that, and lowers himself to the ground far more gently than I had.

He’s at once nearly bowled over by Julie, who if I didn’t know better almost seems a little winded herself. With residual giggles, she says, “Wow, I haven’t gotten to play for so long in ages! I knew we were gonna get along great!”

It’s a tad awkward being the only person fully lying on the ground. I funnel all my self discipline into propping myself up, opting to lean back on my hands to continue taking in the scenery above my head. My eyes sweep over it all, noting telltale specks of stars as the sun slips away to reveal them from behind the blue. I don’t think I’ve ever such a beautiful view of the sky before.

“I agree, it’s incredible.” Frank’s voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin. It takes a second to register that I must’ve let that last sentence stray from my mind to my tongue. I keep my focus upwards, hoping no one noticed my embarrassment. It appears to have worked as he continues, “It almost looks like a painting.”

A painting. A simple, commonplace thing that shouldn’t churn my stomach, but I still feel my heart drop at the words. In my periphery, Julie leans in with a giddy look on her face. “Speaking of, you and Wally seemed to have fun yesterday. Why, you two were out by the woods so long, Poppy almost sent out a search party!” She laughs, and I deem myself lucky that she didn’t notice the blood drain away from my head.

A pale imitation of a laugh comes out with the words, “Yeah, I guess we did…” The silence in the air grows thick, for me if not for the others. The rational and empathetic sides of my brain are waging war once more, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Does… does he ever make you guys feel…” I trail off, struggling to find the words with two sets of eyes now focused on me. “…nervous?”

Frank’s head tilts, and he appears puzzled. “What do you mean? Why would he?”

My head begins to sink into my neck, like a turtle hiding from danger. “It’s just, I always feel like he’s staring at me, and some of the things he says while he does it come across a bit… off. Y’know?”

“Oh, that’s just how Wally is!” Julie bats at the air as if to dismiss the notion. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

As I begin to stutter out my disagreement, Frank asserts, “She’s right. He doesn’t mean any harm. You just haven’t gotten used to him yet.”

“I mean, I guess.” I push myself off my hands, the need to articulate my emotions taking over in my flustered state. “But, I got used to you guys and Poppy and Eddie within minutes. Wally just makes me feel uncomfortable.” The words are tumbling out now, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

When I force my eyes upward, Julie’s are already meeting them, and my gut wrenches at the uncharacteristic dour edge to her appearance. “It’s rude to talk about people like that behind their back, neighbor. He’s been nothing but lovely to you since you got here, and it’s not nice for you to treat him like some kind of threat.” A glance at Frank reveals a similar sentiment in his appraisal of me, and shame builds up within my heart. Against my will, tears begin to burn my eyes and mist my vision.

Unable to take it any longer, I push myself up. “I think I should go.” Neither of them tries to stop me. I pass through the magnificent greenery, knowing that the memory of it is going to have a permanent black mark tied to it. My hand settles on the garden gate, and I hesitate for a brief moment before deciding on “Thank you for the lunch, and for the games.” A mutter akin to that of ‘you’re welcome’ is heard behind me, and with that, I set off for my home.

The sky continues its transition to the night, and I solemnly await for the colors to fade so I can no longer see the brushstrokes in the heavens.

[nurgletwh]

Hey all! You’re about to see why this got so delayed when Tumblr ate my post. >.<

Remember how I’ve previously stated “I disappeared because I had issues, but no worries!”?

Yeah.

Not so much this time. Which has only sunk in with retrospect and time. (@grumpyoldsnake is gonna be “I told you so!!!)

It still doesn’t really feel that way, because the human mind is stupendous at deemphasizing how much danger you might really be in/were in.

Some of this might be covering ground I’ve already covered here or elsewhere. However, I think having it all in one place and all sequenced together will not only help me keep things straight but give it all perspective.

With that out of the way, let’s see if I can not only keep this all the fuck straight but remember what ground I need to cover. I’m putting the rest under a cut for a couple of reasons. It’s long, and it may be triggering for some people. Please let me know if I’ve missed a tag I should have added.

October 2023

I went back to the Dr. to get my medications adjusted, as my blood sugar had gone back up. (Side note: I hadn’t been properly and regularly testing my blood sugar. I was exhausted and sleeping what felt like all the time with no energy to do much of anything at all.) For whatever reason, my blood pressure comes back rather shockingly high (164/108!!), not in line with what it’s been at all. I comment that I’ve never seen it that high, and the nurse says to have the doctor check it after I’ve been there a while.

It doesn’t happen because I’m forgetful.

My cholesterol also comes back high, but that’s been creeping up for years, so no shocker there.

Diabetes medications are adjusted, one is added for the cholesterol. By the time I get home, there’s another one for my blood pressure. I shrug and add it to my pile, since my blood pressure had never come down as far as I thought it should in the first place.

November 2023

Back for a follow-up appointment. My sugar levels haven’t changed all that much, and my blood pressure still comes back as pretty damn high, and I make a mental note to test it at home more regularly, because it doesn’t seem right.

Warning: diet talk.

———

We talk about stuff and whatnot, and decide to try Ozempic (as its original purpose was for diabetes) as the next step to get my blood sugar down.

I was aggravated as he goes on about things like how I’ll feel better for losing some weight, and I half-assed express a few concerns because I have disorganized eating habits. I already don’t eat consistently, and I firmly believe my current weight “problems” are due to my disorganized eating patterns (as well as picky eating and just not really wanting to eat in general) in my youth leaving me borderline malnourished. Most of my teen years were spent trying to get me to gain weight. FYI: being significantly underweight for a long time is a great way to have issues with being overweight later.

I go home with a prescription for Ozempic. Fine and dandy, although I’ve been getting the impression he doesn’t really listen all the time.

———

December 2023

Christmas happens, travel happens, fun happens.

January 2024

Cute cat pic, just because. :-)

Next appointment. My blood pressure still reads significantly higher than normal (156/92), and higher than it has been at home, but what with travel and all, I haven’t really been testing it to back up that assertion. The doctor tests it and gets approximately the same result.

I get another prescription for an additional blood pressure medication.

(Can you guess where this one is going?)

I woke up a few days later with a massive headache that wouldn’t go away. I didn’t connect this at the time, but based on what happened next, I think it was.

The day after that I felt a bit dizzy. When I wasn’t feeling much better by lunch, I took my blood pressure and got 94/68. I took it again and got about the same thing, so I had my coworker (who is also a volunteer EMT) test it. He got 100/54. I continued to check it throughout the day, but it wouldn’t stay consistent. I bugged out of work early, finally sending a… well, grouchy message to the doctor (after hours, unfortunately) firmly expressing my frustration that I wasn’t believed when I stated my at-home readings, pointing out I am also an EMT.

My reading was 96/74 when I went to bed.

I felt even shittier the next day. BP was 94/62 that morning; I stayed home from work. The doctor responded to my message when the office opened, discontinuing the most recently added BP med, sanctioning the choice I’d already made. :-P

Unfortunately, my BP continued to plummet throughout the afternoon and evening. I sent a message that evening and asked what to do, continuing my pattern of sending messages after the office closed. 🙄

I took my blood pressure using my automated cuff before going to bed. It errored out twice before I got this:

Lovely, eh?

(The systolic generally reads 8-10 low, but the diastolic is generally bang on.)

I took it manually; 80/54. I send a follow-up message with those readings.

I felt awful the next morning. The act of sitting up made me dizzy. I stumbled out to the living room and called in to work again; I was in no condition to drive. My heart rate was elevated to around 100-110 (it normally runs fast, about 80-90 in the morning).

By late morning, the automatic cuff wouldn’t do anything but error out. I sent another message asking at what point I should go to the ER. I didn’t get a response from the doctor, but did from one of the nurses, who told me that anything under 90 systolic with symptoms qualified.

What. The. FUCK.

I basically decided that if it got worse, I’d go in. I told a friend to check in with me regularly and stayed in my recliner, drinking water and Gatorade to at least get fluid in.

The lowest reading I got on my manual cuff was 78/52. FYI: I should have been in the hospital the day before. This is “almost died” moment number 1. I was a fucking idiot. Denial is deadly.

——

I think this needs split up; I’m gonna post this now and keep writing, because I’m going to hit some sort of character limit sooner or later. O.o

[fairyniceyeah]

🧚🏻‍♀️ Fairy's June of Doom - Masterlist 2024🧚🏻‍♀️

Below, the fics are sorted by group and within the group by member, as always.

If you want to read the fics by day/prompt order you can just start with Day 1: “Help me” and click yourself through them.

⌛ ATEEZ ⌛

🐿️ Hongjoong Day 3: "Please don’t leave me" - Alternate Stalking/Broken Glass - Alternate Hongjoong watches the news of Seventeen getting mobbed at the airport and realizes that one day that might happen to them. [CW: sasaeng fans, mobbing, panic attacks, mention of blood]

⭐Seonghwa Day 5: "It's not as bad as it looks." Bite/Swelling/Disfiguration While filming at a park, Seonghwa gets attacked by a dog. [CW: wild animals, blood, fainting, hospitals, needles (implied)]

🐶Yunho Day 12: "I can't stand seeing you like this" Dehydration/Grief/Coma Yunho watches San destroy himself over the accident. [CW: below text to avoid spoilers]

👑 Yeosang Day 24: "Let's get you cleaned up." Blankets/Stitches/Bandages Yeosang arrives at Seonghwa’s dorm bleeding. [CW: minor injuries, minor blood]

⛰️San Day 9: "I made a mistake." Accident/Acceptance/Blame San made a mistake, a severe mistake. Not even his hyungs can fix it this time. [CW: below text to avoid spoilers, open ending] Day 12: "I can't stand seeing you like this" Dehydration/Grief/Coma Yunho watches San destroy himself over the accident. [CW: below text to avoid spoilers]

🐣 Mingi Day 20: "I can handle it." Scrape/Panic-Attack/Neglected It’s October 2020 and Mingi is not doing well. [CW: hospital]

🦊 Wooyoung Day 29: "I'm so cold." Delirium/Fever/Exposure Wooyoung wakes up. But where is San? [CW: hospitals, injuries, car accidents, mentions of death (but no actual death)]

🧸 Jongho Day 7: “What happened?" Nightmare/Isolation/Stumbling Jongho has a nightmare and wakes up his Wooyoung-hyung. [CW: mention of injury, fear of abandonment]

💎 Seventeen 💎

Whole group Day 14: "What were you thinking?"   Surrender/Human Shield/Outmatched As SEVENTEEN are mobbed at the airport Seokmin is helpless to watch his members get hurt. [CW: mentions of panic, mobs, blood, injuries, emeto]

🤘🏼 HipHop Team Day 30: "Breathe, damn you." Shock/Asphyxiation/Emergency Room Vernon’s allergic reaction scares the Hip Hop Team. [CW: mentions of emeto, CPR]

🍒 S.Coups/Seungcheol Day 8: "I’m not okay." - Alternate Drowning/Chair/Prison Trade Chan falls off the boat - Seungcheol tries to save him. [CW: mentions of drowing, mentions of emeto] Day 23: "You're doing great" Trembling/Gaslighting/Rules Chan is safe. Seungcheol is falling apart. [CW: emeto, panic, mention of hospitals]

😇Jeonghan Day 21: "Let's play a game" Stairs/Pressure Points/Trap Door Let’s play a game, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Jeonghan was not having fun. [CW: injuries, emeto, swearing (but like the amount I wouldn’t tag in a The Rose fic)]

🦌 Joshua Day 22: "What's the bad news?" Poison/Bed-Ridden/Cauterization It was only a stomach flu… [CW: emeto, seizure, hospital]

🐯 Hoshi/Soonyoung Day 25: "I should have listened to you" Guilt/Backseat/Failure Hoshi really should not have danced this exhausted. Woozi is worried. [CW: minor injury]

🐈‍⬛ Wonwoo Day 11: "We're out of time." Bleeding Out/Collapse/Flatline Wonwoo can’t keep a cool head as Woozi bleeds. [CW: blood, emeto, fainting]

🍚 Woozi/Jihoon Day 4: "Does that hurt?" Impalement/Fracture/Punishment While camping Woozi steps onto a tent peg. [CW: blood, injury, fainting, mentions of nausea]

🐸The 8/Minghao Day 27: "Who did this to you?" - Alternate Defiance/Display/Last Resort It was not Minghao’s finest moment. [CW: /]

🍊 Seungkwan Day 1: “Help me” Failed Escape/On the run/Fetal Position While filming Going Rangers Seungkwan actually injures his foot. [CW: injury, mentions of nausea, guilt]

🐢 Vernon Day 18: "I'm fine." Self-Defense/Allergie/Headache How they found out about Vernon’s allergy. [CW: emeto, anaphylactic shock]

🦖 Dino/Chan Day 8: "I’m not okay." - Alternate Drowning/Chair/Prison Trade Chan falls off the boat - Seungcheol tries to save him. [CW: mentions of drowing, mentions of emeto]

🧭 Stray Kids 🧭

🐺 Bang Chan Day 13: "Wait!"   Sacrifice/Adrenaline/Cornered Jeongin nearly falls off the stage. [CW: minor injuries, guilt]

🐰 Lee Know/Minho Day 28: "Say something!" Numb/Cold Shoulder/Gag Han explains to Minho why he was so hurt and finds out why Minho was so angry earlier. [CW: emeto, mention of arguments]

🥟 Hyunjin Day 2: "It didn't have to be this way." Scream/Double Cross/Made to Watch A choreographer forces Felix to do a dangerous stunt and Hyunjin is helpless, made to watch as the younger falls. [CW: blood, injury, mild violence, emeto, angst, open ending]

🐿️ Han/Jisung Day 26: "Don't lie to me!" Rage/Choke/Paranoia Lee Know is pissed that Han spilled coffee on his favorite hoodie. Thing is - it wasn’t Han. [CW: /] Day 28: "Say something!" Numb/Cold Shoulder/Gag Han explains to Minho why he was so hurt and finds out why Minho was so angry earlier. [CW: emeto, mention of arguments]

🐥 Felix Day 17: "You don't want to do that" Struggle/Black Mail/Desperate Measures Felix is asked to perform a dangerous stunt and the choreographer doesn’t take a no. [CW: idol mistreatment, self-confidence issues] Day 26: "Don't lie to me!" Rage/Choke/Paranoia Lee Know is pissed that Han spilled coffee on his favorite hoodie. Thing is - it wasn’t Han. [CW: /]

🐶 Seungmin Day 19: "This can't be happening." Sobbing/Straightjacket/Dissociation Seungmin knew something was wrong. [CW: dissociation, panic]

🦊 I.N./Jeongin Day 13: "Wait!"   Sacrifice/Adrenaline/Cornered Jeongin nearly falls off the stage. [CW: minor injuries, guilt]

🌹 The Rose 🌹

Whole group Day 15: "Get me out of here!" Rescue/Chainsaw/Presumed Dead After the phone call ends, Hajoon is not the only one spiraling.  [CW: fire, mentions of (but no actual) death, emeto, fainting]

🤍 Woosung/Sammy Day 6: "They don't care about you." Flinch/Broken Promise/Abandonment Woosung gets told he can’t go home after all. [CW: idol mistreatment]

��️ Dojoon/Leo Day 16: "At least it can't get any worse" Secret/Stranded/Setback Dojoon hides his injured hand. [CW: injuries, emeto, self-worth issues]

🩵 Hajoon/Dylan Day 10: "Can you hear me?" Fear/Smoke/Phone Call Jaehyeong wakes to the fire alarm of his apartment building. [CW: fire, open ending]

🩷 Jaehyeong/Jeff Day 10: "Can you hear me?" Fear/Smoke/Phone Call Jaehyeong wakes to the fire alarm of his apartment building. [CW: fire, open ending]

[leclerced]

in my mind, both Max and Charles would absolutely despise when the start of the season happened, because they literally couldn’t go anywhere, without some Mother trying to convince them to marry their daughter, since they were both from good family’s. they would much rather just continue the life of hookups and not getting married. They knew they would have to bend to societal pressures and get married eventually, and they were both considering the newest season as their last season of freedom until the two of them met you. Unlike many of the other debutants, you were outspoken, and you absolutely refused to hold your tongue about things you didn’t like. (In my mind, she’s definitely more of an Eloise, than a Daphne.) Of course they’d seen your family around, they even knew your brother, but up until this point you had just kind of faded into the background! Cue the competition between the two of them, obviously they both want your hand in marriage. though they wouldn’t mind sharing.

-

🩰

yes love this.

max would have more expectations, being the first born son, while charles has more freedom as the second son. charles hopes he may never marry if he can put it off long enough for ladies to lose interest, he's trying his hardest not to come across as marriage material but it does not seem to be working in the slightest. max knows he will have to eventually, but he wants it to be his own choice, whether it be love or something else, not based off land or titles or a large dowry.

i agree she's definitely more similar to eloise! a younger sister who puts off her debut as long as possible. she sees her older sisters and friends get married off, hears about their lives with husbands and babies, etc. or she hears her brothers complaining about not wanting to wed and wonders why anyone would want to get married. after she's finally forced to debut, she avoids the spotlight as much as she can. she doesn't feign interest or play polite like her mother reminded her to as she left with her eldest brother. he's supposed to make introductions to the well standing men who she could marry. she'd dance with a few people so her brother could report so back to their mother, but spend the rest of the ball quizzing the men who approach her.

max and charles meet her when they see her older brother at a ball and approach him to sneak away. he tells them he's chaperoning his sister and points her out in the crowd, dancing with the latest guy brave enough to ask her for a dance. max and charles both wait for the dance to be over so they can ask her if she has room on her card for another. she'd begin to question them both and get frustrated when they answer each one, occasionally arguing with each other about the answers like they actually have braincells, unlike some of the other gentlemen. she eventually tells her brother she has a headache and wishes to return home early. it's only half true, one is growing as she runs out of questions and reasons not to like them.

they like that she didn't even ask their names and titles, instead asking where they had traveled, what languages they knew, books they had read. she questioned them on how they felt about each book, what they learned from them. occasionally. they had differing opinions and it was fun watching her get flustered as she argued her point until they agreed they could at the very least see each others sides.

[kanene-yaaay]

The Shine in My Eyes (Can Someone Turn Off The Lights?)

Kanene’s notes: Heya heyaaa! I received that request AGES ago and thank you very much for your patience, bean! I hope you like the story, even tho I strayed from the original prompt.

I didn’t proofread it because I really wanted to post it as soon as I could sdfghjjhgfd so maybe some parts are confusing or repetitive, pls just hmu if that is the case ^.^)

Warnings: Light angst and hurt/comfort. Light and rough tickles. Ticklish!Reader and Ler!Moon. Around 4.000 words. Can be platonic or romantic. Sun is mentioned.

[~*~]

“Sleep?” The raspy voice questioned, so quiet that you would almost believe that it was part of your imagination if it wasn’t the amount of times you heard that same question in the last months. It spiked a warm feeling on your chest.

You would almost smile if it wasn’t the mild headache taking over your entire brain. 

“No.”

Cold, metallic hands touched your elbow, leading to an involuntary flinch that quickly disappeared when your mind catched up to whom the hand was. Moon continued, traveling his hands upwards your arm with careful, light and slow touches, telegraphing his movements enough that you could perfectly picture his form slouched next to you on the couch, head tilted, attentive eyes watching your body language and scans looking for signals of distress. It was good that you didn’t even need to open your own eyes to see that, knowing pretty well that doing so would only aggravate your pain.

Frustration ran hot on your throat, making you clench your jaw in response. Your eyes itched, still aching after hours staring at the computer’s screen after an entire morning of going out to do chores and shopping. There was an uncomfortable pressure on the back of your head. Yesterday it all wasn’t good either. This sucked. This really sucked.

Moon pulled you up from the urge to give up to the darkest thoughts peeking on the corner of your mind by taking the light fabric over your eyes and changing it for another one, damp from being recently bathed in cold water. A relieved sigh flees through your lips, your fists unclenching (when did you start pressing your nails in your palms again?) and being lifted to clean a couple of stray tears that now ran across your cheeks.

Two bigger hands overlapped yours, silicone digits wiping the water away before a humming began filling the air. You could almost picture the way the animatronic’s body was swaying from one side to another in the rhythm of the lullaby.

“Fuzzy, fuzzy.” The touch quickly changed directions so it would be playing with your hair, massaging and scratching your scalp with the skill of an animatronic that passed weeks fixated on human hairs and would spend another plentiful of weeks being amazed by their softness, form and type, waiting for you to lower your guards so he could try to convince you to let him try another hairstyle. Maybe you should consider buying them a wing. Sun would love it. You could almost hear the uncontrollably, excited rambling already. A small grin grazed your lips. A finger booped your nose. “You’re fuzzy because you’re tired. Sleep. Go to sleep.”

“Contrary to your belief, sleep doesn’t solve all the problems in the world.” Moon huffed at the lightheaded poke of fun, instead choosing to pinch your poor nose in retaliation. You swatted at his general direction, knowing very well it wouldn’t hit the target nevertheless. It was the thought that counts. “Besides, if I take a nap now it will destroy my sleep schedule for today. I am at least trying to keep it healthy.”

More like, you had now two animatronics that would either began to fuzz over your bad habits, nervously twisting his fingers and anxiously spinning his sunrays, hovering and doing his best to make you feel better while trying to not overstep any boundaries and respect your (bad) choices or follow you at night with light steps and clicking sounds, calmly and happily accompanying you through your chosen night activities while also attempting to subtly nudge you to the direction of your room (and, consequently, your bed).

Of course, every now and then all of you would have your missteps. Some days Sun would tremble uncontrollably and hug you tightly when you tried to go out, chatting non stop over your and Moon’s attempts to comfort him. Another nights you would move too quickly or suddenly and Moon’s eyelights would go to a bright red and he would tackle you on the floor, body frozen on a security code he no longer had, but that still affected him. Other weeks everything would feel too much and you would push them far and away and wonder when it all came to this. Why did all came to this.

But… 

But then there were also be days where Sun would skip around the house, a happy humming that made his entire circuits vibrate - and kind of reminded you of a cat - on the tip of his tongue, a batch of homemade cookies or a new colored drawing waiting for you after a long day. There would be moments when your presence and Moon’s comforting, teasy banter would be able to make his sunrays twitch less anxiously and for him to smile brighter, every shoulder bump, every poke, every half hug and every lingering touch would be a promise and a confession (I am here I am here I care I am here).

There would be moments when Moon would come at your room with his hands once again tangled in a mess of yarn’s strands and he would grumble at your light pokes of fun and refuse to tell about his new project so he could catch you and Sun by surprise and tease you both about your reactions afterwards. There would be nights when he would be frozen and twitchy and feel the worst because he can’t get his body to move and you would start telling him about your day, about a funny meme you saw on internet and and interesting something he maybe didn’t know yet about humans or the world that exists around them, and then, bit by bit, he would be able to move (his entire systems blastring friend friend my friend my dear friend over and over above the instinct of threat catch eliminate) and you would watch a movie.

And there would be moments when you gave them surprise gifts because it seems like their wonder about the world, the universe and humanity would never disappear no matter how much time they spent out of that mall. There would be days they would leave warm dishes and hot drinks on your desk, when they would hug and hold you close when you were ready to face them, when they would listen to you and sing soft lullabies or distract you with games and banter until a smile and a soft feeling took over the sadness and red eyes.

There would be days that you spent looking for new activities or experiences the animatronics hadn’t tried yet, preparing another good memory for them to have. There would be afternoons when Sun would dance with you across the living room because he knew how much you loved that song. There would be evenings when Moon would wipe your tears and distract you from your aching eyes because he knew that bad thoughts are easier to fight when you’re not alone.

Evenings just like this one.

“Thinking too hard.” Moon pressed his thumb firmly on your forehead, pulling you out of your thoughts (again). “Too hard. Must rest. Sush.”

You snorted. “Wow. Thank you, man. I have no idea how I lived until now without your rich life advices.”

“Cheeky brat.” A playful poke was jabbed on your side, fishing a surprised yelp from your lips. 

Silence.

“Let’s play a game.”

A jumpy ‘zing!’ ran across your spine at the dangerous and incredibly joyful tune that took over his raspy voice, and you immediately knew that there wouldn’t be another ending for this day other than you becoming a mess of laughter on the couch. Still, even when a wobbly smile stretched on your face you tried to sound firm.

“No.” It didn’t work very well. There was no heat in it, titters already bubbling in the back of your throat. Your arms began moving and flailing in the general direction of his snickers.  “Moon, no. Give me your hands. Give me your hands right no-o-ow, come on!” Your words began fading and twinkling in between stubborn giggles and squeaks as a wave of pokes and squeezes began attacking your entire torso from seemingly everywhere. 

"Sorrrrry, Moonlight. Can you repeat that?" He was prodding your ribs now, tapping his fingers on each one of them, escaping from your grabbing hands with ease, not taking long before his attack changed to a light pinching of that absurdly vulnerable spot that connected your belly with your sides. His delighted tune showed that he was not sorry at all. "Can't hear you over all of those wiggly giggly giggles. Care to repeat what you just said? Hm?"

His attacks were getting even harder to predict, the cloth on your eyes helping in nothing your current state, actually, the fact that you couldn’t see where he would strike next only made butterflies fly excitedly on your nerves.

Before a reply could leave your mouth, however, his hands began spidering all across your midsection, digits fluttering and dancing on your stomach, barely scratching the sensitive skin next to your bellybutton, teasing and worming their way up and down, from a side to another on your stomach, exploring and tickling every available space until it could calmly rest on your hips, still softly scribbling the ticklish spot with no worries in his heart.

It was hard to not squirm with the tickles, even more so to control the yelps and chuckles that kept falling from your mouth like a waterfall. Especially with Moon's taunting squeezes that never failed to appear when you never expected and fish a squeaky snort.

You tried to talk once again.

He digged his fingers just the slightly bit on the flesh of your hips.

Your hands flew to hold his wrists, lips pressed firmly shut with the willpower that he, the evil jester, the mean clown wouldn't get not even a single more yelp from you.

"I think someone wants to laugh. ~" The whispering wasn't even that close, the animatronic not even having a breath to make it so taunting but you still felt the urge to scrunch your neck and protect your sensitive ears, knowing very well they were one of their favorite places to attack. "Someone here, a very ticklish, very giggly and silly-silly-silly someone wants to laugh sooo much right now… isn’t that right, starlight?"

His hands (still being held but not pushed away by yours) calmly crawled across your sides, drumming on your ribs and still going up until both of them laid on your shoulders, scribbles and scratches leading their way up to your chin, leading your squirms even worse with all the giddy anticipation that traveled across your nerves and made it hard to stay still in the same place.

"Such precious, beautiful laughter and giggles trapped right here." He tsked, one of his hands traveling slowly - all his movements now were surprisingly and still slow, as if he was telegraphing his moves for you - to tease the underline of your jaw. "Greedy, greedy. Wanting to keep all of your adorable reactions all for yourself. You need to learn to share."

His voice was closer. Much closer than before. Danger sirens blasted on your brain but the effort to not laugh and succumb to the ticklish scratches now focusing on unfairly attacking the shell of your ears and the spot right behind them distracted you too much to realize what was about to happen. Why was his voice closer? 

A low, half filled with joy and half with mischief chuckle filled the air. And suddenly you knew the answer. 

“Moon, don’t you dare-!” But it was too late, the unbearable buzzing already taking over your senses, the raspberry spreading like electricity across every single inch of ticklish skin on your neck, pulling all the laughter, all the squeaks, snorts and titters from their hiding spots, making a smile stretch from a side to another on your face.

It didn’t last more than one or two minutes, however. And soon enough Moon was changing and re-adjusting the cloth over your eyes since the last one was already dry and it had fallen from its place with all the struggles. It was dark and your vision was still slightly blurry, but the smirk over the other’s faceplate was crystal clear, his head spinning twice before it bobbed in your direction. 

You mentioned for him to come closer, giggles still running away from your mouth uncontrollably. When he did as asked, your hands held his face with care, thumbs caressing the metal of his cheeks, red eyes watching your expression with adoration and wariness.

“I…” You took a good gulp of oxygen, letting your voice in a sweet, lovely tune, giant smile still plastered on your features. “Will destroy you once I’m free.”

The wheezing sound that came out of his system was loud and uncontrollable, a few parts of his exoskeleton clicking non stop in a kind of amusement that only happened when his guard was down and he was caught by surprise.

You probably just made it even worse to yourself. It was clear for the way that Moon’s eyes squinted until they looked like a crooked smile.

But the promise was worth it. Maybe you could even ask for Sun’s help. His teases were basically unbearable to endure.

“Lay down, lay down, troublemaker.” Careful touches pushed your shoulders so they would go back to a laying position, the piece of fabric being again put over your eyes and bringing a sense of cold relief. It almost made up for the fact that you were walking to a trap.

Well, at least it was a comfortable one.

“Perrrrrfect.” You felt Moon lifting your legs, sitting on the free space on the couch and then laying said ones on his lap. “You laughed, now it means you have to play my game.~”

You wondered if you would be able to get to your room and lock yourself before the animatronic could catch you.

As if reading your thoughts, two hands locked on the spot right above your knees, not squeezing (not yet) but being close enough that a wobbly tune began painting your grin and the need to wiggle away started itching on your nerves.

“Alright.” You acquiesced, the grumpy pout being quickly erased when a single finger skittered on the ticklish skin under your knees. Cheater. “Alright. What is the game?” 

“Say the word.” Confusion must have shown on your face, because Moon continued his sentence. “I write and you say the word, right, squeaky mouse?” As if to confirm his words, he clawed your kneecap, fishing a squeal.

You didn’t answer right away, the squeezes became more and more quicker.

“Ok, ok!!” Kicks did nothing to dislodge the attack, and by the way Moon snickered, he knew very well that. Laughter began bubbling once again on your throat. “I agree! I already agrehehehed, stohohop!”

Satisfied, the animatronic relented his tickling, hands not more touching anything.

Strangely enough that only made you feel even more ticklish, tingles and shivers running and spreading everywhere.

“Guess.”

And then they were back.

The tip of his index finger touches your thigh in a straight line, goosebumps following the scribbling as it changed to lay in the middle of the previous straight line only to make another, tiny, tickly, horribly tickly bolts of electricity teasing the nerves as he repeated the sign, over and over again.

“Guess.”

An only finger dancing and tracing your thigh. It shouldn’t be able to tickle so much. It shouldn’t affect you this much. But it was so light. It was so unbearably light and soft. It was…

It was a letter.

“Ihihihi! It’s an ‘I’!”

“Yesss.” Moon seemed delighted at the snickers, more than happy to see you playing along the silly game and forgetting the reason for your earlier tears. “Second one. Four letters” He got closer to your knee, but instead of one, now two fingers danced and scratched the sensitive skin, going up - once again in a straight line - before going down and to the right - another line, - repeating the movements thrice before moving to the kneecap, softly tracing circles on it again and again and again and again and-

“Move on!” You could feel the heat creeping on your neck and face, the airy giggles becoming more and more frenetic and uncontrollable as the previous daycare attendant refused to focus his attention elsewhere. He did, however, continue after a few more seconds, not wanting to scramble your thoughts so much. 

Moon lifted your leg just a little bit, just enough for him to reach with no problem behind your knee, pulling his touch downwards before going right up, as if his touch was doing little jumps on the spot, zings and more zings of tickly electricity pulling hints of snorts on your reactions.

Lowering his tracing a bit more he arrived to your calf. One straight line up. One to the right. Go a tad downwards the first line. Another line. More downwards. One more line.

He began repeating the tracing. You felt like all of your other tickle spots were tingling in empathy for the calve’s struggles.

“Lohohove! It’s ‘I love’!” A wheeze escaped from your lips and filled the air. Was he really writing I love you? “That is so chehehesy.”

“Sush, sush, sush, cute teapot.” A couple of squeezes. More kicks in protest. “Third word. Five letters.”

Wait. Five?

Now, Moon moved closer to your ankles, three fingers scribbling and drawing the letters, slipping way too close to your soles for it to be only a mistake. It took him having to ‘write’ the word more three times since your brain simply erased any and every knowledge as soon as he felt those nails scraping the skin of  your ankles.

“Being!” You shouted, once again descending in breathless laughter and squirms when the animatronic confirmed that your guess was right, firmly rubbing and massaging the sensitive skin so that you could get a break and breathe more steadily. 

It took a while before snorts and quiet squeals stopped taking over your voice and your legs stopped tingling and sending shivers across your body. You didn’t even was usually that ticklish on your legs, but the mix of light and soft teases and not being able to see what he would do next making your sensitivity spike to the sky.

The game had a logic, however. Thighs, knees, calves, ankles… If you weren’t mistaken, then the next one would be…

Another ‘zing!’ ran down your spine.

“Last word. Seven letters.”

Seven letters.

I love being…

“Wait, wait, wait!” You tried pulling your legs away, but the hands were keeping them nice and cozy in his firm grip. The cloth fell from your eyes and you looked for his, an unstable, pleading grin on your face. “Moon, wait, you know I can’t!” His eyes only squinted more in mischief, smirk growing on his mouth unashamedly. That son of a- “I can’t say it, Moon, please! I swear Moon, I cahahan’t!”

He lifted his hands, fingers wiggling in the air. For a moment you thought that the sentient robot was waving you goodbye since he was about to absolutely kill you dead. But then you heard it.

A faint buzzing, dancing and filling the room.

“No!”

The clawing hand slowly began moving to your feet.

“Last word. Five letters.”

“Don’t you dare!” You had no idea how your voice didn’t break any windows with how high pitched and loud it was, the hysterical, belly laughter already bubbling in the back of your throat as pleas fell like flocks from your lips. “Moon, don’t you dare! No! Come on! Do NOT-”

The buzzing, still discharging small ticklish sparks of electricity touched your sole.

Everything, for a blissful moment, froze.

Then it all came crashing down.

The buzzing filled every single inch of your nerves, tickling in ways that should be illegal, especially as the animatronic - the traitor - began moving to trace the spot as if you could concentrate in the letters being written over all the incoherent babbles and pleas that generously painted the laughter taking over your senses.

You already knew the word that was being written, and was very aware that said one didn’t need all the scratches being delivered to the arch of your feet, or the scribbles that attacked without mercy the balls of your feet and digged under and in between your toes, wiggling and tickling and tickling there without a care in the word.

“I will write it again.” Moon basically purred, sounding too much like the perfect personification of a very smug cat. “Pay attention, gigglebug.”

Before you could protest the fingers were once again traveling across your soles, repeating the attacks and now focusing on all the weak spots they found in their way, fishing plentiful of squeals, squeals, yelps, giggles, titters and snorts in their way.

Everything stayed like that for a few pieces of time. Laughing filling the air, buzzing and tickling taking over every sense. The melodious symphony fulfilling hearts.

And then it stopped.

Moon chuckled, once again rubbing the spot so the ghost tickle feeling would disappear faster, even if your remanent tittering laughter still stretched between you both.

“Did you discover the word?” 

You opened your eyes, wiping a few tears that escaped and trying to look chastising at the robot in front of you, although your burrowed frown didn’t hold any heat, especially with the wide smile still blossoming on your face, shining eyes staring directly at him.

Moon only chuckled more.

“Alright, alright. Troublemaker. But one day you’ll have to admit that you love it.~” 

Before you could answer with a snarky remark, the animatronic surprised you by picking you up and laying down on the couch, letting you rest on his chest.

“Game is not over. One more sentence.” It was an affirmation, but you lived enough with him to recognize the questioning tune in his words.

“No more.” You established.

He grumbled. You were pretty sure that if he could pout, he would.

Silence.

“Gentle tickles…?” 

A sigh left your lungs at the hopeful feeling in his voice.

“… Sssstarlight?”

And how could you ever say no to that?

“Ok. But only light ones.” You agreed. Because when it came to Sun and Moon you had a piece of butter in the place that should be your heart, as it seems.

Moon began carelessly grazing the tip of his fingers on your back, the tickles just light enough to make one or two giggles jump here and there, a pleasant feeling of comfort and softness spreading and relaxing your muscles, making them melt and a warmth to blossom on your chest.

So caring. So comfortable. So soft…

Your mind began drifting away, breaths coming out more steadily, thoughts becoming less and less coherent as the minutes passed by.

You only realized Moon’s plan too late, when your conscience was already slipping away and the tiredness of the day was already catching up.

That freaking cheater.

Well, at least it was probably already late enough that a quick nap wouldn’t hurt.

[void-writing]

Okay I’m back on my Mummies nonsense and I’m thinking about the untapped potential of Amanda Carnovan and wanting to bite something.

Like, I get that this is a late 90s Y7 show so of course the normal adults aren’t necessarily going to be involved very much given who the target audience is but we could have had SUCH FUN DYNAMICS between Amanda—technically mother of the pharaoh and also a certified Egypt nerd—and the Mummies. The Mummies, who would be an ancient civilization researcher’s WET DREAM because they’d be the ULTIMATE primary sources to their era of ancient Egyptian history. I may be projecting a bit, but having people who LIVED IN a civilization three thousand years ago AND who would be able to verbally talk about their experiences (biases and all) would be so cool.

Plus, I think Amanda and the Mummies would have gotten along so well. Like, they canonically respect her despite never really interacting with her purely on account of what Presley says about her.

I can see Amanda talking parenting and leadership with Ja-Kal and them confiding their doubts and hardships to each other that they wouldn’t talk about with anyone else. Like, for example, Amanda is a single mother working a full time job, and Ja-Kal struggled with balancing his responsibilities as the prince's guard with his duties as a father and husband. I think both of them would have a lot to talk about regarding work-life balance. Plus, Ja-Kal in the show was edging very close to "dad who stepped up" territory. I'm not saying that Ja-Kal and Amanda would get a romantic subplot (Amanda doesn't seem to be interested in looking for a boyfriend and Ja-Kal isn't either) but I feel like they'd become platonic co-parents in the right circumstances.

I can see Amanda just absorbing every historical and arcane lesson Rath gives and chiming in with her own knowledge. They’d butt heads and argue over specific facts for hours, both being entirely too stubborn at times to give the other an inch, but at the end of it all they’d do it again because they’re both nerds and love the pain of their research.

I can see Amanda and Nefer-Tina becoming gal pals, maybe at first being friends solely because they’re the only women in the group but ultimately enjoying each other’s company; Amanda affirming that Nefer-Tina isn’t wrong for being fascinated by modern advances while Nefer-Tina gets Amanda to break out of her shell a bit by dragging her along to experience the modern world with her (I can see circumstances conspiring to get them stealing a car together and I think I’m right about it).

I can see Amanda and Armon bonding over cooking and exchanging recipes from their respective cultures, even if they may have to substitute a few key ingredients for Armon’s recipes (I doubt Amanda would be able to get her hands on hippo steak, sadly).

Plus! I also want to see Amanda’s reaction to hearing that 1) her baby boy is the reincarnation of a murdered Egyptian prince from three thousand years ago (and one she made a full exhibit about and probably rambled to Presley about for months), and 2) the man who killed him the first time is still around in present day trying to not only do that AGAIN, but use her son’s soul to attain immortality for generally nefarious purposes.

What I’m saying is I wish we could have seen Amanda’s reaction to the Mummy Nonsense because she would have been a WELL of interesting character interactions and also likely caused Scarab headaches personally by beating him up for trying to repeatedly murder her son.

And don’t even get me STARTED on Walter! He was presented to the audience as Presley’s best friend but we hardly see him at all! We could have had Walter as the best friend sidekick! The non-chosen character stuck in the chosen’s orbit! He could have been a Toby Domzalsky or a Connie Maheswaran before those characters even EXISTED! We could have had Walter struggling with pressure from the Mummies to be as dogged and dedicated in his defense of Presley as they are because they see Walter as Presley’s last line of defense, someone who can protect Presley where they can't. After all, the Mummies can’t follow Presley into school and have to be careful about going out in public on account of their whole undead situation. It could be really interesting to see Walter get continuously pressured by these adults who literally died in the line of duty to follow in their footsteps, even if it meant meeting the same fate as them. It would have been interesting to see the Mummies be struck with the realization that they made themselves forget that Walter is a kid too and someone very dear to Presley, and that they were wrong to try and pressure him into becoming a warrior like them. It would have been interesting to see them try to atone for the way they treated Walter as another soldier for their cause. It would have been interesting to see how Walter buckled under the pressure the Mummies heaped on him and even more so if Scarab tried to exploit it because in his darkest moment, Walter would have just wanted all of this Mummy Nonsense to STOP and for everything to go back to how it was before (even though that’s impossible) and almost costing Presley his life because of it.

And Elaine! How cool would it have been if she didn’t have her memories conveniently wiped and she just elbowed her way into the Mummies’ and Presley’s crazy world of gods and monsters out of rabid interest in getting the truth, even if she has to learn a lesson about how not all truths are created equal and sometimes lies and secrets are made and kept to protect the innocent! We could have had an episode where Elaine gathered proof of the Mummies and Presley’s involvement with them and was SECONDS away from publishing before she’s confronted with the reality that Presley keeps his involvement with the Mummies under wraps (ba dum tss) because the anonymity surrounding his modern identity is the only thing keeping an immortality obsessed madman from turning up on his doorstep or in his class to LITERALLY KILL HIM AND EAT HIS SOUL. We could have had her be the reason Scarab learns Presley’s modern identity and her having to atone for putting him in MORE danger.

Ugh. There's just so much wasted potential and it makes me sad.

[celientjeee]

Celine dear 🧡 I’d be eternally grateful if you could give Dando and “not that I’m not enjoying this, but could you move your hands?” a try 💙

but no pressure 😅

My dear Ella, thank you so much for this prompt 🧡 I have no idea what happened, the words just kept coming? So ehhh enjoy this 1k long prompt of Dando 🥰 --

Lando had no idea what was going on. 

Ever since he stepped foot into the paddock this morning it had been complete chaos. Not only with the activities around him, but also for himself. He kept tripping over his own feet, bumping into things, spilling his drinks and he even burped - very loud - during an interview. 

It was a weird day and Lando couldn’t wait for it to be over already. His hip was still aching from when he bumped into a table and his shirt smelled like peach iced tea, even though he sort of got the stain out. 

‘Landoooooooo,’ a familiar voice sang from behind him when he was just about to get inside of the Mclaren motorhome to film yet another content video for youtube. 

God, he had a headache. 

Lando loved Daniel but if he wouldn’t keep his voice down, he would hit him. Hard. ‘Hey,’ Lando smiled, holding open the door of the motorhome so Danny could get inside with him. 

‘Nope, we’re not doing that,’ Daniel said, shaking his head as he grabbed Lando’s free hand and pulled him away from the door. ‘You’re coming with me.’ 

A sound of protest left Lando’s throat but Daniel kept a firm grip on his hand and led him away from the orange motorhome with a big smile on his face. A few people gave them weird looks, but no one said anything. Max even waved when they passed him.

‘Danny, what the hell?’ Lando yelped as he struggled to keep up with Daniel’s long strides. When they reached the Red Bull motorhome, Daniel looked around a few times before dragging Lando inside with him, his fingers tightening around Lando’s as if to make sure he’d keep following him. 

A voice called for the team to get together and Lando bumped into Daniel’s hard muscled back when he suddenly stopped walking. 

‘Shit,’ Daniel muttered and he frantically looked around as if he did not want to be seen. 

Lando had no idea what was going on and why he was being this weird. He was about to say something when Daniel started walking again, or jogging actually and once again Lando was struggling to keep up. ‘Danny, what the hell?’ Lando hissed as he got pulled into a small room all of a sudden. 

It looked like a supply closet, or it did before Daniel closed the door and darkness surrounded them. Was he serious? ‘Dan-’ Lando started to complain but a big hand covered his mouth then, stopping him. Voices got louder in the hallway they were just in and Daniel pressed his hand even closer to Lando’s lips as if he thought Lando would speak up. What he didn’t realize was that his stupid big hand covered both Lando’s mouth and his nose, which made it very hard for him to breathe. Lando tried to push his elbow in Daniel’s stomach when pulling his hand didn’t work, but it only made Daniel put his arm around his waist and pull him against his body so tight he could barely move at all. Well, this was a fun way to suffocate. Lando could already see the headlines. Lando Norris (23) sadly died by former teammate Daniel Ricciardo’s stupid big hands.

The only thing he hadn’t tried yet, was lick the inside of Daniel’s palm. As soon as his tongue tasted salty skin, Daniel loosened his grip a little. ‘What the fuck, Lando, stop that,’ Daniel whispered in his ear as footsteps and voices traveled by the door they were hiding behind. Lando pushed all his weight against Daniel’s body in order to try and create more distance between his mouth and Daniel’s hand. He needed more air. Now. Daniel however was just relaxing his body as the voices were now barely audible, resulting in him stumbling backwards a little and tripping over whatever was in this supply closet. Somehow Danny managed to find his footing again, but Lando, who was finally free to breathe normally again, wasn’t. He tumbled forwards, once again crashing against Daniel with his full weight, making the two of them go down with a loud thump as Danny couldn’t hold himself up this time. They both froze. Listening to the sounds around them, wondering if anyone had heard. Lando tried to catch his breath without panting, but it was difficult and he just wanted to rest his head against Danny’s stomach and lay there for a while. 

‘I think we’re good,’ Daniel whispered when no one opened the door and the hallway stayed silent. 

‘Fuck you, mate,’ Lando grumbled without lifting his head from Daniel’s stomach. ‘What the hell are we even hiding for?’ ‘I wanted to get you alone to cheer you up after the weird day you’ve been having, and I didn’t want either of us to be dragged away by responsibilities right away,’ Daniel moved to sit up a bit, making Lando fall down his chest and into his lap instead. 

That was actually really sweet of him. ‘Ehm, not that I’m not enjoying this, but could you move your hands?’ Daniel whispered, his voice sounding very strange all of a sudden. 

When Lando went to move his hands from Daniel’s lap he noticed he wasn’t just gripping his thighs. No, one of his hands had landed almost directly on Daniel’s crotch and because he was wearing sweatpants Lando could feel his throbbing dick under his fingers. 

Fuck. 

‘Shit, I’m sorry,’ as quickly as he could Lando tried to move and get up, only for his legs to get tangled with Daniels and fall down again. 

Jesus. What was wrong with this day?

Daniel chuckled, his breath tickled against Lando’s forehead. 

‘You’re really having an off day, aren’t ya, muppet?’

Lando groaned and nodded against Daniel’s chest. He was so done with today. 

‘Let’s try this again, shall we,’ Daniel said and he slowly sat up, his fingers closing around Lando’s biceps to help him up as well. 

Because Lando was on top of him, this position made him straddle Daniel’s legs. 

‘Hello,’ Daniel giggled when their chests and noses almost touched each other. ‘Hi,’ Lando whispered back, stupidly.  He didn’t dare move, afraid he would just fall down again and he was actually kind of comfortable on Daniel’s lap.

‘You know,’ Daniel started saying, the tip of his nose was touching Lando’s now and he could feel hot breath fanning against his lip. ‘We could make your day even weirder?’

‘How?’ Lando breathed out, a shiver going through him as Daniel’s hands moved from his biceps to his neck.

Those stupid big hands that almost suffocated him before, were on his face again and once again Lando had trouble breathing. He didn’t mind this time though, because when Daniel kissed him, his lips soft yet firm, he felt like this day was finally turning good again.

[bloomingflowersthings]

Burning up burnout

Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen X Daughter! Reader, Elizabeth Olsen X Sick! Reader

Summary: The biggest part of showing your mom that you’re responsible, is knowing when to stop and rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being Elizabeth Olsen’s daughter is fun. I mean, it’s normal. You were a normal teenager, you went to school, had friends and were a good daughter. You hadn’t demonstrated any interest in acting yet. But your mom wouldn’t pressure you to it. She knew that being in the spotlight since a young age could affect your mental health. Lizzie was supportive of you and just wanted her little girl to be happy. And you just wanted her to be proud of you.

Turning off your alarm, you sighed. You went to sleep earlier yesterday, trying to sleep of a massive headache, but as you woke up you realized that you were feeling worse. Your head and body hurt, your throat was scratchy and you felt so cold. But you didn’t have time to be sick now. There were a billion of assignments that you needed to get done while also preparing for your finals. You also knew that your mom’s schedule was packed, and you didn’t wanted to disturb her job by being sick.

After getting dressed slowly, you went downstairs to have some breakfast with Lizzie. She always loved to have some mother-daughter time before the both of you started your routines.

“Good morning sweetie!” Lizzie called out for you, putting both of your plates on the table.

“Good morning mom.” You answered, trying to sound energetic.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked as you sat down beside her.

Before you could answer, the itchy feeling in your sinuses grew stronger. Prompting you to lean away from her to catch a series of sneezes in your elbow.

“Hhup’tshhiew! Hh’iishiew!”

“Bless you bubs.” She chuckled.

You both finished eating and went to grab your things before leaving. As you were zipping your backpack, your nose decided to make itself known again.

“Hh'ishiew! Hheh'tktoo! Hh-HuhS’CHIEW!” You sniffled slightly afterwards.

“Bless you, are you ok Y/N?” Your mom asked, her brows furrowed together.

“I’m fine mom!” You said, smiling at her.

“Don’t forget to take a hoodie, I don’t want you getting a cold.” She said, walking over to her room to get her car keys.

“Okay!” You answered, running over to your room to grab one of your hoodies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car ride to school was silent, usually, you’d love to chat with your mom, but today, your headache would not let you think straight, so you just leaned over the window and closed your eyes.

Lizzie glanced at you worriedly. Maybe you were just tired? She decided to let you relax for now, but she would definitely keep an eye on you.

“Sweetie, we’re here.” Lizzie announced as the car reached your school.

You barely had time to wake up properly when you felt the annoying tickle in your nose.

"Hh..heh'eetshew! Hh-heh’kitshee! whew! sorry about that!! love you mom bye!” You said quickly, not giving Lizzie any space to question about your sneezes.

“Bye baby…” She said as she watched you stifle three more sneezes while entering your school.

Sighing to herself, she followed her way to set. Afterall, you would always call her if you weren’t feeling well, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wrong. When your last class finally ended, you were feverish and had a huge headache from stifling several sneezes throughout the day. You couldn’t wait to finally go to your mom’s trailer and rest for a bit.

There was a slight problem. If your mom saw the state you were in, she would put you to bed rest and you wouldn’t be able to finish your assignments. On top of that, she would also leave work to take care of you, and you knew that she was going to have a busy week. You didn’t wanted to be a burden.

So, instead of going to set to wait for Lizzie on her trailer, you decided to head straight home, sending her a message so she wouldn’t get worried about you for not showing up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll give you a dollar for your thoughts.” Scarlett said, noticing the way that her friend was quieter than usual. They were both on the common room, waiting to be called for the next scene.

“It’s nothing.” Lizzie sighed.

“It’s obviously not nothing, i’m not going to push you about it, but I want you to remember that I’m always here for you.” The older woman said, giving a reassuring squeeze on Elizabeth’s hand.

“I’m worried about Y/N, she was a little different this morning and she just texted me saying that she went straight home.” Your mom said, nervously.

“Do you think she’s upset?”

“Not at all, I think she’s getting sick…” Lizzie admitted.

“Did she complained to you about not feeling good?” Scarlett asked.

“No, but she didn’t sound or looked good. She’s so stubborn and won’t rest unless I force her too.”

“Hm, just like someone I know.” Scar said, bumping her shoulder lightly on Lizzie’s

They both giggled for a moment before Scarlett spoke up:

“You know what? we can try and get our scenes done a bit more quickly so you can check on Y/N.”

“Would you help me with this?” Lizzie asked, smiling hopefully at her castmate.

“Of course!! I love Y/N like my own kid! now let’s try and talk to our director.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“HhheH'tcHIEW!..Hh'ehttschoo!” You sneezed down on a tissue that you managed to quickly pull from the box.

You were halfway through your assignments. But the words on your laptop were blurry, your head was throbbing, and you couldn’t take a deep breath without hearing your lungs crackling.

Honestly, you really wanted to ask for your mom’s help. To feel her warm hug, to hear her soothing voice lulling you to sleep. But no. That would be admitting defeat. That would be selfish. You had to push through it.

Bringing you out of your thoughts, your mom entered your house, hanging her coat next to the door.

“Y/N? I’m home!!” She called out to you.

“Over here!” You called back, using your best “i’m-not-sick” voice.

Walking over to you, she didn’t expect to see you like this. There were several tissues around the table, all of your textbooks, your laptop and your notebooks, she almost couldn’t see you in the middle of that chaos.

“Hehae'ktieew! HHh’kktoo! Ugh ‘scuse me, how was work?” You asked.

“It was okay honey, are you okay?” She asked putting her hand on your forehead.

In your hazy state, you couldn’t escape from it.

“I’m just tired, thats all.”

“Your forehead is abit too warm for my liking, let me take your temperature please.” Lizzie said, walking to the kitchen to get the thermometer.

“No mom, please! I barely feel bad!” You managed to say before entering a painful sounding coughing fit.

“Sweetie, don’t lie to me, sometimes you forget that I made your brain inside my belly.” She said, brushing her hand through your hair. “May I take your temperature now?”

You nodded and she placed the thermometer in your mouth. The device beeped a few moments later and gave her the verdict. “39.1, that means bed rest for you young lady.”

“But mom! I’m just trying to get all this work done! I have no time to rest.” You said, tears filling your eyes as you spoke.

“Y/N, baby, I know you’re a tough girl, I’m really proud of you. But I’m just heartbroken by how sick you got, I want to take care of you.” She said, kissing your temples. “Now let’s get settled.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a nice shower, a cup of tea and a dose of NyQuill, you were finally laying in bed with your mother. She was mindlessly scrolling through her phone while you were trying to sleep besides her.

“Heh’xxt! Hih'hnnxgt! Hhxxxnt! H’tsssh! Hu’xxxnt!” You stifled a series of sneezes, prompting your mom to glance at you.

“Bless you sweetheart! you shouldn’t stifle…” Lizzie said while rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry…” You answered with a small voice.

“No baby, don’t apologize, I just don’t want your headache to get worse.”

“Not that, I’m sorry for being sick.” You said, looking at her with glassy eyes.

“Y/N, you don’t ever need to apologize for being sick. I’m your mom and you’re the most important person for me. I’m sorry you’re not feeling good, but I’ll be here with you the whole time.” Your mom reassured you.

“Can you just hold me?” You asked.

“Of course baby.” She said, snuggling closer to you. “For as long as you want me to.”

[mangoshorthand]

Before A Fall [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch 2 (Hard Feelings Part 2)

SUMMARY: As your life begins to grow around Five's, his attitude becomes a little sinister. When does protection become suffocation and when does taking matters into your own hands become betrayal? (weekly updates) Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

A wedding, some bad news and mean kids.

No smut below but proceed at your own risk because it's tradition now.

Chapter 2: A Kiss and Tequila Slammers

You parry the punch Five aims at your head. Then, using your front hand to control the movement of both of his arms, you employ his own forward force against him. “Good!” You try to put pressure on his neck, to lift his arm over his head and lock his elbow in place, but he throws you off easily. “Watch for my cross attack. Again.” He blinks away, reappearing behind you and making as if to get you into another choke-hold, but you grab his right forearm, push it upwards and spin away from him, using your other hand to push just above his elbow. Grunting with the effort, you’re again able to use his own strength against him, his back bending as you fully execute the arm lock. “Ow! Great!” You let go your grip and allow him to stand, though you know he could have thrown you off as easily as waving away a fly if he wanted to. He’s barely broken a sweat but you’re panting. You step off the mat and take a swig of water. “You’re really improving- your neutralization’s getting much better. Next time you need to watch your defense though.” “I know you always go easy on me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Nobody you need to fight will be as good as me.” As much as you’d like to make fun of this little piece of arrogance, you have to admit he’s probably right. As you catch your breath, he leans against the wall, arms folded and legs crossed. He watches you with a satisfied smile.

“What?” you ask, pausing as you prepare to shower. 

“Nothing,” he says, “can’t I enjoy looking at my girlfriend?”

“I’m too old to be a girlfriend and you’re certainly too old to have a girlfriend.” you say, amused, “it makes us sound like kids.”

He makes a noncommittal noise.

“Well maybe you make me feel young.”

You smile back at him and leave to shower.

Later, crossing the courtyard from the training rooms, you and Five enter the kitchen to find Diego, Lila and Santi around the kitchen table. Lila is halfway down a cup of coffee while Diego and their son eat bowls of cereal far too big for them. “Good morning, family,” says Five, only a touch of irony in his voice. You take your customary place next to Lila, wincing slightly as your abused ass makes contact with the seat. Five notices it, smirks and then brings you a cup of coffee. “Mornin’ hon.” Lila mumbles. You and Lila come together very naturally. You’re untied by similar tastes and a love of bringing Five down a peg or two at any available opportunity. In this, you’ve become perfect partners in crime. Though Lila and Five clearly have soft spots for one another, their day-to-day interaction is laced with bickering. Lila is one of the few people who calls him out on his arrogance. He needs that in his life. “Hey little guy,” you exchange a smile with Santi, “that’s a lot of cereal!” “Nope,” he replies, “not enough!” Diego eyes him worriedly, “He must be hungry. Not been so great last night.” “Oh?”, Five returns with food for the pair of you and sits down himself, his eyes also falling onto Santi. He's a sickly child. It seems that every week he develops and then recovers from some ailment or another. “Still with the headache and puking. Thought we’d have to go to the ER at one point.” “So no school again today?” Lila frowns, “We’re keeping him home. Got to make sure he’s ok for tomorrow.” “Going to play video games with Daddy, aren’t we, monster?”  “Yeah!” yells Santi, smiling at his father with a cereal-laden grin, milk dripping down his chin. Diego scolds him disapprovingly and passes him a sheet of kitchen towel. When Santi’s finished as much of the cereal as he can manage, Lila kisses him on the head and tells him to go and play. After he gallops away, she eyes the door he left by with concern. “How’s he doing?” you ask. She sighs deeply, “He doesn’t get it really.” “He’s young.” says Five. Diego flings his spoon back into his bowl. “Maybe some part of him understands and that's what made him ill." You all sit in silence. “What’re her chances?” asks Five, ever the pragmatist. Lila sighs.

“Not good. It’s a glioblastoma.” Five winces, “So realistically she's got just over a year? If she's lucky.” You put an arm over Lila’s shoulder and she rests her head briefly on you. Hearing that their son's best friend had developed a terminal illness has been hard on them. A cruel twist of fate could leave any parent at its mercy and not even their formidable powers would be able to stop it. “We’re thinking of canceling the honeymoon.” “I can’t say I want that for you,” said Five, “after all your planning.” Their wedding is tomorrow. For years after Santi was born, Lila had refused to entertain what she termed ‘that patriarchal bullshit’ but maybe she was softening a little as she got older.

Sure, she’d made some pretty strict conditions about the contents of the wedding day, but she was clearly excited. Her irony-laden British-style ‘hen party’ had been quite the event: all attendants had to wear sequins, feathers, and four-inch heels at minimum, on pain of death. Klaus had been in his element, adding a tiara to his ensemble. Personally, you had particularly enjoyed the penis shaped shot glasses. The night had been worth the full day hangover following. Diego sighs and wipes a hand across his eyes, resignedly. “I know…but she’s pretty much his only friend. I don’t think we can go away for a month right now. He already hates school and this is gonna be tough on him.” Five eyes Diego, hiding the smile that wants to creep out. Although he wishes he was hearing it under happier circumstances, it's always strange and pleasant to see Diego invested in family concerns. He's a father most unlike the one they shared. You consider, “I know he’s fragile right now but you deserve your trip," you turn to Lila, "I know how much you’ve missed London.” “Sure," Five agrees, "we're still prepared to look after him. If he’s not really understood what’s going on with Alyssa…then maybe we can provide him with what he needs for now. He'll need you when the time comes but she won't deteriorate dramatically in a month. You'll be back in plenty of time for," he trails off, "well, for when he really needs you.” Diego and Lila look at each other. "Go on," says Five, looking at Lila with a grin, "he might be your son, but I'm actually fond of the little guy." “Thanks, you little pisspot,” says Lila, her dark expression cracking with a smile. “We’ll talk it through.” “A pleasure. Anything to get rid of you.

Lila’s wedding dress was more than worthy of her: a simple bodice and a full high-low skirt: it was white but dip-dyed a dark violet. Her favorite leather jacket and black suede ankle boots completed the look. 

All in all, Diego and Lila’s wedding had been like them: informal, loud and chaotic. The ceremony part was executed in the courthouse as quick as humanly possible in order to get to the important part: dancing and partying in the punk nightclub they’d hired for the evening. 

Five hovered awkwardly by the bar. He was wearing what, on reflection, was an entirely inappropriate tuxedo and became uncomfortably sweaty. He watched the crowd dancing to The Sex Pistols, Lila jumping and headbanging with a crazed look in her eye and Diego drinking shot after shot with Luther. He himself ordered a martini and was stirring it with his olive awkwardly, wondering when he could justify you both leaving. 

There was a joy in being part of this family that Five didn’t always appreciate: it presented him countless opportunities to exercise his brain with a conundrum. He knew that spending over forty years in the apocalypse was preferable to both, but whether Lila and Diego's wedding was worse than Luther and Sloane’s, he couldn’t yet decide. 

At that wedding, Five had eschewed the occasion’s sentimentality until he’d been so drunk that he'd joined in and eventually blacked out. Luther and Sloane’s romance had been saccharine and, as happy as he had been for them, (finding contentment together in what seemed to be their final hours), he made a beeline for the drinks table before the ceremony had even begun and drunk copiously in an effort to get through it.

Sure, something about being sure he’d die within forty-eight hours might have had something to do with his attitude then, but he had a sneaking suspicion that watching them gaze into each other’s eyes and sigh would have driven him to drink at the best of times…(not that he could talk about that anymore). 

Yet this atmosphere seemed too far the other way; flashing lights, floor thrumming with music. Not his scene at the best of times. He supposed the instinctive dislike for overly loud music is the old man in him. He could barely see you in the low light, but picking out Luther by his height was slightly easier. Scanning the figures surrounding him, his eyes came to rest on you.

He watched you for a while, screaming along with Johnny Rotten about how the queen of England wasn’t a human being, and smiled. He knew that this sweaty, musty club was the only place in the world he’d choose to be right now. 

After last year, he’d been worried you’d never move your body this freely again, but time, careful physical therapy and your regular sparring sessions made it almost as if you had never been ill. As if he had never lapsed so far in judgment as to let Michael Monroe hurt you.

You caught his eye, face lighting up and worked your way across the dancefloor towards him. On the way, you stole a tequila slammer off the tray beside Luther and presented it to Five. 

Before you pulled him onto the dancefloor with you, he knocked back the shot, chased it with his remaining half martini and let you remove his jacket and undo a few shirt buttons. Perhaps it was the booze, or maybe your hyperactive vibes were infectious, because Five let loose: he spent the rest of the night dancing along with The Clash, getting bashed and buffeted by the crowd and his siblings and found he didn’t care at all.

He kissed you several times throughout the evening, when his adrenaline was high and the music pumped with it through his veins. The kisses were hard, boisterous and joy-filled. Once, he lifted you off your feet with the force of it, earning him a small shove from Diego for ‘lowering the tone of the evening’. 

When it came time for the bouquet toss, Lila had spun round and thrown it hard overarm, directly at Five’s head, where it slapped him in the face before falling at his feet. “HA! Sucker!” “Up your ass, Lila”, he called “so happy for you both.” By the end of the festivities, (and more than a few more drinks), Five’s hair had been sweat-plastered to his forehead from excessive dancing. He’d let go enough to get out of his own head, and you'd loved seeing him dance like he really was in his twenties. Somehow, you all made it back to the Academy unscathed. Viktor had apparently stayed sober enough to shepherd you all home as well as be a responsible adult for Santi, asleep in his arms. For once, all the beds in the Academy were occupied with guests from the wedding; Hargreeves siblings and friends alike.

But, by this morning, only family remained: You, Five, Klaus and Viktor had gathered to wave Lila and Diego off from the Academy steps. Santi cried a little at first, but cheered up when Five blinked him a short way down the road to wave at the cab again.

 All in all, Santi was excited to be left in your care. Five was an indulgent uncle who didn't patronize him; whenever they talked one on one, Uncle Five always made him feel like a grown-up.

When it came to you, Santi at first took a little time to warm up. For the first few weeks, he hadn't spoken if you were in the room. He was a shy but affectionate little boy, and his idolization of Five was part of what made him initially unsure about you. As if it wasn’t bad enough that his uncle could now often be seen kissing a lady (obviously gross), that lady could well get in the way of their regular playtime.

When he was reassured on the subject of playtime by Five being just as good a Robot Commander as ever, he came to accept your presence and learned he could even overlook the odd peck on the cheek.

And then, with careful progress, you eventually recommended yourself to him. Santi, taking after his parents, has the power to duplicate simple organisms. You knew one day that you’d finally won him over when he'd picked you a bouquet of flowers he'd duplicated because you mentioned you liked a lone bloom.  Now, he quite happily holds your hand on the way to the bus stop, but he drags his feet. “What’s up, Santi?” “I don’t want to go to school.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but you have to.” He pouts and looks down at his shoes, huffing in disquietude.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” You can’t see his face, but when he speaks, it’s forlorn. 

“Nobody likes to play with me.”

Pity for him fills you. “I’m sure that’s not true, you’re a cool guy.” you squeeze his hand a little, “Wanna talk about it?” He walks in silence for a few moments. “Cole and Joe F say I’m a liar and I don’t say any lies. But then they told Mrs Cambridge that I did, and she said yes I was and that I was making up stories.” “Why do they say that?” “They said my Daddy can’t really throw knives that good and that I can't do dupes and Uncle Klaus can’t really see dead people.” You look up at the building next to you. This is a tricky one to deal with. “Well, Santi, we’re not really supposed to talk about that, are we?” While the Umbrella Academy was no secret, they had not been a household name in twenty years. Lila and Diego didn’t precisely hide their identity but they didn’t exactly advertise it either. “I know, but it’s not fair.” You reach the bus stop. You bend to a slight crouch so that your head’s level with his. “I know it’s not nice when people don’t believe you but, the thing is, to Cole and Joe and Mrs Cambridge that stuff probably does sound like a made-up story. It sounds like you've been really good and kept your promise to not show anyone your power at school.” He frowns at you slightly crossly, clearly not accepting any validity here. “When I first met Uncle Five, I didn’t believe he could blink. I thought he was lying. I only believed him when he showed me and you can't do that at school.” “But you’re not mean.” his pout deepens, forehead creasing in the sort of sorrow only an unfairly maligned child can feel. “I know little man,” you pull him into a hug. “Alyssa believes me.” “That’s why she’s your best friend, huh?”

He nods as you rub his back. You give him a final, tight squeeze.

 “We'll talk with her soon. Until then, try and find someone to play with, ok? You don’t need to talk about your powers or your Mommy's powers or anyone's. You're cool enough without them." He looks slightly better as you break apart, just in time for the bus to arrive. “Ok Santi, on you get. Uncle Five will pick you up from here this afternoon and then we'll get dinner with Uncle Klaus.” He waves as the bus doors close. As you head off to work, you send a bit of love after him. Childhood is going to be difficult for him for a variety of reasons.

Come the afternoon, Five’s running a little late. With a book, he's heedless of time- and today he’d been rereading an old favorite. Persuasion is not Austen’s most popular work, but he thinks the reason why is what appeals most to him; her characteristic wit is tempered with melancholy in a mix he always finds interesting. Jane, (like him it seemed), had grown more sentimental in her later years. 

Lost in the story, Five had checked his watch and realized Santi would be at the bus stop in less than five minutes. With a judicious blink to the entrance hall, he’d been out of the door quickly. Now he hurries his steps and rounds the corner to the bus stop. He’s still about half a block away so breaks into a light jog when he sees the school bus pull up. As Santi steps out and onto the sidewalk, an empty soda can flies out of an open bus window and hits him in the head. “Hey!” Five shouts, blinking directly to Santi’s side and yelling after the bus, “what do you think you’re doing?!” But the bus pulls away with the sound of shrilly laughing children inside. Angry and upset, Five turns his attention to his crying nephew, squatting in front of him. “Come on little guy." Five has a tendency to remain aloof from physical affection- but you and Santi are the exception. He pulls his nephew into a hug. "Are you ok?” “They’re MEAN,” he sobs. Five can feel the heat coming off his face. “Who did that?” “I d-don’t know! Maybe Cole or Robert.” “Little assholes,” Five murmurs, straightening up and taking Santi’s hand.

 He stares darkly after the bus, his other hand lodged firmly in his trouser pocket. 

“Come on, let’s go get a doughnut.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh,@nevbrooke-555

Masterpost Alternatively, join me on AO3.  Here is a link to the whole series

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

A light shower of spring rain for the sprigs of lavender lotuses and night sorrel

The Misty Range Woodlands is a planet, though many see it as a giant greenhouse - and they’re not wrong. It’s home to all kinds of rare and unusual plants that seem to only exist here, and so great care is taken to ensure that they remain as bountiful as ever.

Not surprisingly, it’s one of those places where you have to make reservations far in advance in order to visit. Thankfully, I have connections, so we got a good deal on one of their resorts thanks to the Epiphany since they’re here on a mission. What I didn’t expect was to also run into Jamie, Aislinn, and the Linnea squad, so that was nice. Jamie had been hoping to meet up with the Epiphany crew, especially since she hadn’t met Meiying and Hongxia in person yet.

As for why we’re all here, it’s to take a hands-on class on how to take care of lavender lotuses and night sorrel. Not too long ago, those two plants have been discovered outside of the Misty Range Woodlands, most which are native to those areas but were considered unknown until recently. And it turns out that there’s some growing near the camp, which is a pretty big deal.

Even if it wasn’t required, I still would’ve signed up for this class out of curiosity if someone suggested it to me. I think it’s fun to take random classes to learn something new without the pressure of having to be good or worry about grades - sometimes you’re just curious and want to try something out because it looks interesting.

Who knows, maybe you’ll find yourself enjoying the experience far more than you expected, which then leads you to wanting to take a deeper dive into it. That’s how I got into things like mechanical keyboard building, which I knew nothing about until I got one of my own and wanted to customize it after seeing a bunch of pretty and aesthetic pics on social media. Sometimes you just see something that looks pretty and you’re like I want that.

But really, making your workspace pretty while still functional helps a lot with your productivity. I mean, who wouldn’t want a nice looking desk that sparks joy when you look at it? Why must everything look so plain under the guise of professionalism? What’s wrong with having some color or design to show a bit of personality and make things a bit more visually interesting?

Maybe it’s just me, but having a mechanical keyboard makes me more motivated to get work done. They’re just so satisfying to type with, especially with the right key caps that look and sound nice - basically, it’s a sensory thing. A flat keyboard just doesn’t hit the same anymore.

Anyway, so learning about lavender lotuses and night sorrel’s kinda like that in terms of starting out with little to no knowledge about it, to now wanting to take a deep dive after learning a bit about the basics. I’m no plant expert by any means - I know a lot of people who deserve that title far more, though expert doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of their expertise - but I have picked up a lot of interesting tidbits over the years.

It helps to know someone who’s not only well versed, but also passionate about the subject. I find that they’re the ones who are more than happy to talk about it, teach about it, and just share their enthusiasm in general. Meiying and Nabil are two plant experts - though for very different reasons/fields - who easily fall into that category, so it’s no surprise that people often turn to them for advice.

In fact, Meiying was invited as a guest lecturer for this course since night sorrel - and moon sorrel, which is kinda related/under the same plant family - is native to Qiangshou. Both are used for its medicinal qualities related to improving sleep and reducing headaches induced by stress and anxiety. Along with having studied the plants extensively, Meiying also has firsthand experience on the medicinal effects. Over there, they use it in herbal teas, usually one whole sprig if taken before bed, or a handful of petals if taken for headaches.

Now that I think about it, I do remember seeing some night sorrel growing along the Crimson Maple River - she even pointed it out to us along with a million other unique plants that grow there. There were even a few sprigs hanging on one of the windows of her place, probably something they usually have on hand when needed.

So that was fun learning about, as well as a much needed break from an informative, though just as interesting, series of classes. Plus, Meiying’s good at explaining things as well as keeping the audience engaged, even when she sometimes goes off tangents, which I think adds to the charm.

Even though she never intended to be a lecturer, people back at home just assumed she’d be good at it because she knows so much about topics that most would consider niche - not to mention how clearly and thoroughly she explains things. Her first go at teaching a class kinda came out of nowhere - personal recommendations, one which happened to come from Hongxia’s sister-in-law.

What was the subject? Sex education. Because a lot of adults are lacking in that, which isn’t really surprising. Why Meiying specifically? Because she gets quite a few customers who are looking for some natural or herbal thing to increase their sex drive. Also, on the opposite end with people trying to suppress their sex drive, and maybe even induce abortions. Then there’s some who think they can treat STDs without having to see a doctor, probably because they’re ashamed and assume they can hide it.

Being an apothecary sure brings a lot of unusual cases, so it’s no wonder that Meiying picked up on a lot of different things. Although her official title’s an apothecary, people have referred to her as a detective, medical assistant, IT person, secretary, pharmacist, teacher, botanist, consultant, just to name a few. Still, even though she’s considered a jack of all trades, she considers herself first and foremost an apothecary, someone who just happens to be fascinated with medicine - not just in terms of treating an ailment, but also the process of making it and the pharmacology behind it.

Seeing Aislinn again was a nice surprise - same for the Linnea Squad too. Aislinn and Jamie are here to visit a friend and the Linnea Squad tagged along at almost the last minute. Basically, there’s shot going down with Linnea’s family, so Jamie’s taking them under her wing again until that drama dies down. Linnea already blocked at least 20 calls since we got here, which is a lot. Like, don’t they have anything better to do than to harass someone who’s not even involved?

She already made her stance clear by standing up against them and she absolutely doesn’t regret her decision. The other members - Florina, Nash, and Shirin - stood with her in solidarity, not just because she’s their leader, but because they had their own reasons for becoming disillusioned with the International Sanguine Watchdogs Army. Many have accused them of biting the hands that fed them, especially since they’re the reason why they’re still alive today, but that’s obviously their way of saving face.

In short, it’s a fucking mess that they’re lucky to get out of relatively unscathed, mainly because Linnea has one sympathetic family member who was willing to put their neck out for them. Linnea’s able to keep in contact with him, which is how she got the heads up about the current situation. She doesn’t know too much about the specifics other than it’s another one of those things that kept being swept under the rug until it piles up and now it’s blowing up in their faces. The older she got, the more she noticed that stuff like that was a regular occurrence, which is very problematic.

However, she did learn something that might be a bit of hopeful news from her adoptive brother Lauge regarding someone the squad assumed was dead. The squad broke ties with the International Sanguine Watchdogs Army for various reasons, and the annihilation - yes, that’s the word they used - of their comrade Altti’s squad along with countless others proved to be the last straw. Linnea and Altti were assigned to work together on an ill fated mission, resulting in him being the only survivor of a failed retreat.

The Linnea Squad barely escaped themselves, and Altti would’ve been killed too if Jet hadn’t insisted on saving him. By then, Linnea and Florina had grown fed up with the higher ups and their questionable decisions. Sure, things can get unpredictable and go from 0 to 100 in the blink of an eye, but straight up sacrificing your own people just to send a message and then playing them up to be martyrs is taking things way too far.

Like, damn, it’s basically an extreme case of if I can’t have this, then no one can. It’s like someone throwing a fit when they lose a game, except instead of flipping the game board, they just bombed the hell out of it. Then they declare it a victory because everyone’s dead, therefore, no one can object. No wonder Linnea and the others bailed out - I too would be like fuck this shit, I’m out, bye.

So for a time, Altti accompanied the Linnea Squad. He initially butted heads with them, mainly because he was older and wasn’t too happy with having to work with a bunch of kids, especially two who technically outranked him. Jet was the one who managed to get him and his squad to cooperate and see them as equals. When the higher ups brushed the tragedy aside like some cold statistic, the Linnea Squad stood in solidarity with Altti when he protested against their indifference. They didn’t expect a domino effect to follow afterwards, though they now know that it was bound to happen eventually.

Then in the span of a few weeks, the Linnea Squad lost three comrades - Altti, Jet, and Gabe. However, Altti didn’t walk out like the other two, and his status remains unknown, but presumed dead. Linnea was warned by her brother that the Sanguine Watchdogs was planning to seize the entire Sanguine Jurisdiction, which meant that the squad had to flee the country if they want to survive. For context, the main city is right in the center, so the closest border is about a 6 hour drive - even longer and more treacherous when you’re most likely traveling on foot most of the time, as well as trying to evade the military.

They were almost at the border when disaster struck, forcing the squad to split up in order to improve their chances of escaping. Linnea and Florina went north, Jet and Gabe east, Altti, Nash, and Shirin west. The westbound group was caught in a crossfire when riots broke out in the surrounding cities, forcing the higher ups to resort to extreme measures similar to what happened with Altti’s squad.

Nash and Shirin got separated and they barely escaped thanks to a civilian who was believed to be the last person who saw Altti before he disappeared in the chaos. As the riots escalated, the guys realized they had to make a difficult decision with Nash insisting that they not leave until they find Altti because it’s what Jet would have done while Shirin felt that they were wasting valuable time, even if he agreed that it wouldn’t be right to leave without him.

In the end, Lauge came in and practically dragged them out of the city despite their protests. He managed to reunite the rest of the squad at the border of Sanguine. Despite the risks, he wanted to see them off since it’ll probably be the last time he’ll ever see them face to face. Of course, the Linnea Squad was reluctant to leave when one of them’s missing, but Lauge told them that there was no turning back. If they refuse, their days will be numbered - no exaggeration, this is what happens when you live in a war zone.

Linnea had no choice but to do as he said, though she made him promise to do whatever he can to find Altti and help him out in any way he can. She says Lauge always keeps his word, which is why he’s the only family member she can trust at this point. A lot of people went missing and are presumed dead, so there’s a high chance that Altti is one of them, as much as she hates to admit it. Even so, he and all the other victims deserved better than to just be some “unfortunate casualty”, a term the army likes to throw around that Linnea’s grown to despise.

So there is finally a bit of hopeful intel coming from Lauge that suggests Altti survived the riots. He had heard some rumors here and there, but it wasn’t until recently when he came across concrete evidence that finally settled that matter. It’s still not much to go on since Altti’s current status remains unknown, but at least they now know that he escaped the riots and retreated south. Lauge plans to search the areas where he might have gone and hopefully uncover more information.

While the squad remains realistic, they really hope that they’ll be able to reunite with Altti. It’s bad enough having Jet and Gabe walk out on them - and that whole thing is just a mess. All Florina can say is that it’s for the best if they keep out of each other’s way, though they can’t keep that up forever. They agree that Jet means well, but he often fails to consider the bigger picture, which they fear will lead to his downfall. It’s still a bit of a sensitive subject for Linnea, but sooner or later, she and Jet will have to face each other and work things out.

The classes have provided a welcome distraction for the Linnea Squad - good thing there were enough open spots to squeeze them in. Nash isn’t certain, but he’s pretty sure he’s seen night sorrel in his hometown, or maybe it was moon sorrel, which looks similar. Meiying and the instructors don’t think he’s mistaken since both flowers have distinctive colors - shades of blue and purple, kinda like a galaxy. Yeah, that’s something that would leave an impression. Even though Nash’s hometown is in ruins and likely occupied by the Sanguine Watchdogs, it’s likely that there might be some night or moon sorrel growing in the ruins, so it’s worth looking into. Looks like getting into the class was meant to be.

Then there’s lavender lotuses, which are native to the Misty Range Woodlands. So far, there’s no known sightings of them outside of the planet. They have many uses - potions, perfumes, vitamin supplements, kombucha, and soups. Along with being a good source of vitamin C, they also help relieve stomachaches and reduce anxiety. While lavender lotus products are relatively common in these parts, they’re pretty much unknown outside of the Arrowroot Orbit - meaning, places like planet Earth. So they’re using this course to introduce the outside world to this otherworldly flower that’s basically their version of a dandelion.

Even though there’s a lot to learn about night sorrel and lavender lotuses, I don’t feel that overwhelmed. I mean, it’s a lot of information, though the hands-on stuff and Meiying’s interlude kept things engaging while also breaking up the monotony of just sitting through a bunch of lectures and video modules.

Read on AO3

[callipraxia]

So, ‘fun’ (loud whisper: not fun) fact about me: if the barometric pressure goes up, I tend to get rather awful headaches. They’re usually only about a three or four on the pain scale, nothing like the stress-induced migraines I used to get in high school, but they come with a whole host of other sucky symptoms and, crucially, do not seem to respond to medicine at all. They’re just there until they aren’t, leaving my coordination shot, my mental processing excruciatingly slow, my attention span next to non-existent, my perception of time completely divorced from the clock…etc etc. Not good.

I’ve been grappling with one all day today, and it’s only about 60% gone, which is why I won’t judge the quality of the writing idea I had earlier right now…but if these things have an upside, it’s that my thinking makes all kinds of strange connections it normally wouldn’t, providing interesting material to think about, if I am lucky and can remember anything about it *after* the headache….gotta start keeping a ‘try to remember to jot down headache thoughts’ notebook or something. In any case, today’s random connection was between “fountain pen ink colors voted into the Diamine lineup by the r/fountainpens subreddit in recent years” and “hey, I could make that the title of a one-shot!”

Three of the four I know about worked quite well. “Earl Grey” and “Writer’s Blood” both could go nicely enough with episodes of younger Ford, and “Sailor’s Warning” can be made to work for something at just about any point in the GF timeline. The only not-obvious one is… “Celadon Cat.” I know I spent several hours of my headache musing over what I could possibly make that one into. I do not remember if I ever came up with an idea, but anyone who can is welcome to it.

[deathtransformed]

Sherlock Holmes: verses

(Note: Will add more or remove some in the future. Also a possibility of Gemini appearing in these verses too.)

Verse: Changed Man (Post Season 2 AU)                        After faking his death, Sherlock Holmes went on a mission to bring down Moriarty’s empire with Mycroft’s assistance. When he finished the last strands of the consulting criminal’s empire by means of going undercover, he was then captured, realizing too late that he stepped into a trap. This caused for him to lose contact with his brother who was under the impression that his radio silence meant he’d been working under the radar.

Months of torture upon capture, thanks to alternate usage of drugs keeping him high at one point while keeping him pliant on another, it messed with Sherlock’s brain. Having to hang onto the fact that he needed to survive, Sherlock Holmes had to make the hard choices, causing him to stand to the brink of sanity. Eventually breaking him, giving his enemies the opportunity to build him back the way they wanted him be. The way he’s intended to become.

Now back in Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes had no memory of who he used to be. Now he is placed back in London under orders, working to fulfill his duty and his thirst for blood as what he’s been told.

Because wouldn’t it be fun if the consulting detective comes back from the dead, high-functioning and looking all well in appearance but willing to kill in order to survive?

Verse: Six Months (Post Season 3 AU)                        Without John Watson’s knowledge, shooting Charles Augustus Milverton meant death for Sherlock Holmes. The consulting detective was placed on MI6 and work with them as his punishment for shooting the man, something he will never regret if it meant to save John. This means that Sherlock Holmes will have to work with everyone in the MI6, going out to the field for missions and even providing assistance within the HQ at times. Mycroft’s verdict is that he’d last six months. But if he’d been working with the best of the best, would it be bold to assume that he could last more than that? After all, shooting someone in cold blood for the safety of others would also mean something, wasn’t it?

Verse: Frailty of Genius (MI6 AU)                        Sherlock Holmes was recruited to work in MI6 and decided to accept the offer when he realized that he’d encounter more idiots in New Scotland Yard than people like Greg Lestrade who’d take his advice into account.

With a mission he had however, Sherlock was hit in the head hard after discovering something crucial for MI6. When he gained consciousness, he had no memory of his life as a consulting detective nor with the people whom he held dear in his life.

Though he’s back in the MI6, he barely remembers the people. Interestingly enough, he apparently made a connection to some of them prior to his accident.

For a while, he was to stay within the HQ and work behind the desk or in the lab as he once again goes through the process of knowing every single people he worked with. Though sometimes, he’s being sent to the field still but only to assist, since his brain is still surprisingly sharp after passing the examination given to him before reporting back to work. Whenever he tried to remember, Sherlock tend to suffer headaches especially when put under pressure. Was it necessary for him to remember the past? Or was it something that he shouldn’t bother anymore? Things are going well after all. Yet somehow, there are moments where he feels like there’s a hole within his brain that he craves to fill. And somehow, his heart feels the same too.

What had he forgotten about?

Verse: Left Behind (Vampire AU)                        Sherlock Holmes walked the Earth for more than he could remember. He was once human; he knew that fact. But the person who turned him into a creature of the night, his maker, was someone he couldn’t recall. At least not anymore.

Now working as a consulting detective, he decided to live his days in Baker Street while keeping a good amount of supply in the blood bank for him to live and survive. He wouldn’t want others to suffer his own fate and though he never denied that he wasn’t human. He never raised the discussion to anyone either.

Though sometimes, he had to live with the boredom. After all, he’d seen it all. The rise and collapse of humanity due to their own doing.

[marsgod]

Hi! I saw your blog and I thought it was super cute so I decided to request something. May I request Jamil to teach a female reader how to cook instant ramen. I just thought this would be fun to read and I think you could pull this story off. Also, can you have the relationship be platonic and maybe add in Kalim somewhere. No pressure if you can’t do it though.

how cute^^ i imagine jamil is vv controlling in the kitchen and he will eventually just ban you at some point + i’m so sorry if this isn’t what you meant

⇢ “Jamil teaching fem! reader to cook ramen”

⇢ Warnings; fem! reader, i made reader a rich kid bc haha, platonic relationships, this isn’t too long sorry;-;

“So.. What am I supposed to do?”

Jamil took a deep, long breathe before exhaling it once again, rubbing his forehead. Honestly, Jamil didn’t even like ramen too much himself, but he joked about it. Joked about living off ramen once, and apparently you didn’t know what it was.

And you know what? Alright, fine, he can show you just to fill the time in, but god Jamil wished he was pretending well enough to be calm when you kept asking questions,

“Why don’t you just use the seasoning pack? It’s in there, shouldn’t it be used?”

“What’s the difference between the microwaved and the stovetop ramen?”

“Wouldn’t microwaving it be faster though?”

Jamil is almost sure you’re trying to piss him off and what’s really kicking the bucket is the fact that it’s working, and he nearly blows a fuse when Kalim excitedly walks in and asks what you guys are up to.

In which, what was already giving him a headache, was going to make him have an asthma attack because he’s truly not sure whether to laugh at the fact you two are so rich you don’t know what instant ramen is, or holy hell you guys are so rich you don’t know what instant ramen is.

Jamil lights the stove, giving a quick once over to the water before grabbing the actual noodles. Meanwhile, you, and your most recent addition, Kalim, were watching intensely and asking questions.

Harmless questions, but somehow it makes him want to sucker punch you, or cry, or laugh, or all the above.. Whichever comes first, you live once.

“I thought you were supposed to microwave-?”

A deep sigh was emitted, “No, Kalim, you’re not supposed to microwave, it doesn’t make the noodles taste as good.. Although, I don’t think most of any of it is good.” He keeps the last part to himself.

“But I saw Leona making it like that?” You said confusedly, leaning forward the slightest bit

“Are you really going to trust Leona, of all people or hybrids you could possibly choose from?”

“…” You awkwardly looked down

Jamil let out a breathe, “People make it like that cause a lot of them are lazy and don’t care if it tastes good or not,” He holds up the unused seasoning packet, “Which is also why you don’t use this actual packet that it gives you”

Kalim nods, completely and genuinely interested in this insightful conversation.

[astroyongie]

Le Sserafim Reading - July Edition

Note: Please remember to take my words with a grain of salt. And have fun !

Chaewon

Chaewon isn’t in a relationship since April when she broken up with her ex partner. At the moment her love life isn’t very active, she is more focused on her work which was the primer reason she left her ex partner.

There’s new things, I see them working for their new comeback. She has put a lot of efforts into it and she doesn’t rely on the opinions of others despite receiving a lot of criticism inside the company. There’s a lot of external pressure when it comes to her work, but she tries to be patient even if sometimes she can’t help but fight and have arguments with her coworkers

Physical Health: She is overall okay, only a few headaches Mental Health: She feels trapped in her current situation, she has negative thoughts, pain that she needs to forgive to move on

Sakura

Okay so please take this with a grain of salt just like any of my readings. Her love situation is complicated, because she got herself involved with someone that was already on a fixed relationship. There’s quite a few age gape between them, the partner of the person she has been with recently broke up with their partner because of their relationship

I see a lot of good things for sakura, she will probably have some type of solo work (maybe advertising, brand, some type of solo schedule/work). Things are actually going very well for her in terms of career

Physical Health: She has been currently healing since she had som health issues concerning her blood circulation, womb and stomach in general.  Mental Health: She has been feeling very exhausted lately, she thinks a lot about all the things she had to do to be where she is now

Yunjin

Yunjin isn’t in any kind of relationship. At the moment she is just enjoying her life, going around with however she wants, she is very close to her friends and has close relationships with them. She speaks with someone who currently has brown hair. However I also see that her current life is stuck in a cycle due to her current bad karma

Despite her career being in good feet, she Is scared of something concerning her work. She doubts and fears the public, about what they could be talking about her. She takes her work seriously but there’s a lot of anxiety concerning her future

Physical Health: Some headaches and also she has been dealing with hormonal issues Mental Health: She feels a lot of regret and guilt

Kazuha

Okay so pretty much like Chaewon she had someone in her life before she debuted, but because of her contract and of her manager and company, she had to break up with this person. It still today hurts her much, she still has feelings for them and she would have wished that it wouldn’t have to be like this

Good fortune coming to her career, she will be able to express herself and her creativity in a way. Kazuha is very excited to this new comeback and she wants to work hard

Physical Health: she is okay Mental Health: She feels very agitated, needs to work on her self esteem. Kazuha also has some very unhealthy lifestyle (maybe an addiction to some sort ?) she is trying to fight that on.

Garam

Currently she is in a sort of weird relationship with someone, that is covering her up and protecting her. I didn’t get much info about them but their relationship has been going since December 2021. I also see a lot of people that have bad intentions toward her, a lot of revenge going on

When it comes to her career it’s clear that she is in a very very bad situation, and my spread keeps conforming it. However I see someone (female) very influential in Hybe that has some type of relationship with Garam, that is trying to solve this situation for her. They might talk about the subject soon

Physical Health: She has thyroid issues, also pains in her neck and she probably strained her vocal cords Mental Health: She is doing fine

Eunchae

I had a hard time figuring what was going on in her love life, Eunchae is simply talking with someone via text/social media. She has been falling in Love with this person, she keeps it secret since there’s a reason she doesn’t want to meet them yet.

Thanks to her sponsorship she will be able to develop her career and I see good opportunities for her in the future. She is actually very happy with the situation that her group is at the moment, she wouldn’t want it to change. Good fortune for her career

Physical Health: She has some troubles with her blood pressure, her arteries and overall heart. Her body feels old to her  Mental Health: She is very sensitive at the moment, she reflects a lot about her past and she wants to be alone